Our relationship is like that beach boys song "help me Rhonda" and I'm fucking Rhonda. And Rhondas's the whore in case you've never heard it.
He was a level 5 clinger dude i dont need to be told how ridiculously awesome i am all the time, if so id just hang out with my mom
Apparently my type is "guy whose parents had unprotected sex on Halloween". Last week was my ex's, my FWB's, and the guy I'm seeing's birthdays.
Every shot buddy I have I end up blowing. I don't know whether this pattern is good or bad.
In other news, someone I've had sex with won jeopardy last night.
I was just laying in bed wondering if there's more important things in life than cheese stuffed pretzels.
Vodka?
Forever.
What are you doing? Because if it happens to be drinking, or even any activity that rhymes with "drinking", I'll be over in 5.
I told the cop to try walking in heels and he'd understand why I was walking home without then on. He told me he only does that on Wednesdays.
maybe if I avoid him long enough we could skip the talking part of "we need to talk"
He was pretty handsy. Told me I tasted like smoke. Good think he tasted that and not the stomach acid I just puked not ten minutes before.
I take Paypal, cash, sexual favors, and roasted red potatoes with garlic as payment. You choose.
My sex life is driven by spite and alcohol
I guess daylight savings isn't a holiday we need to celebrate for three days...
WHAT THE FUCK DREAM ME
I'M GONNA PUNCH THAT BITCH THE FUCK DID SHE THINK SHE WAS DOIN
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